


Snowed in

by beautifulwhensarcastic



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: F/M, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 22:04:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2708378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifulwhensarcastic/pseuds/beautifulwhensarcastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sudden blizzard forces Steve and Cath to spend an additional day away from the city.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowed in

"You know, there are many skills you have mastered, but I don’t think using the power of your mind to force the snow to stop falling is one of them," Cath chuckles, observing Steve's rigid body practically glued to the frost-painted window, watching the chaos of white twirling outside.

The sudden blizzard surprised them in the morning of their planned day of leave, cutting them off from civilization. The report said that it had started snowing heavily in the wee hours of the day, and it hasn't stopped, covering the already blindingly white slopes with additional layers of sparkling snow. The cherry red of their rented vehicle is barely visible under the white stratum and the road down the hill is unrecognizable.

While Steve had been busy assessing his capacity to shovel the snow away with his bare hands, or with a a small military shovel, which - Cath is sure - is stacked in the bottom of his to-go bag, she had called the municipal services. The snow-ploughs are said to go on the high route to their place early next morning, meaning they are now forced to spend an additional night in the cottage. 

Which isn't really bad - it's a cozy place, with a warm fireplace and a fridge still full of food and wine.

But she knows Steve and how he cringes when the plans need readjustment. He can deal with it, but it doesn't necessarily mean that he likes it.

"Funny," Steve glances at her over his shoulder, "I still don't get it. Why can't they clear the snow today?"

"Because we're in a resort up on the hills and clearing the snow in the town is more important," she looks at him knowingly, "Schools, hospitals, fire department. You know that."

Of course he knows, they might live on a snow-free island, but the route of reaction is the same. At that moment, though, he's not a leader of the task force, providing support and protection to the citizens, but a slightly disappointed and whiny tourist.

"Come on, having to wait for tomorrow morning is not the end of the world," Catherine rolls her eyes at his highly displeased frown, "It's just one day. I won't have to kill and eat you, Bambi, so relax."

Her snort draws his attention fully and Steve turns around, his face scrunched in mock indignation, "Here I am ready to chop off my leg to feed you, if needed, and you go around calling me Bambi?"

"Bambi was cute," Cath grins at him and crosses her arms, leaning on the kitchen counter, "Besides, I'd spare your legs."

"How noble of you," he scoffs, hands resting on his hips as he keeps peeking over his shoulder, as if to check whether or not the weather has slightly changed in the last few seconds that he was turned away from the window. 

"Well, you need them to run..." she points out, but what's seemingly a casual logic quickly turns into another tingle of sarcasm, curving her lips in a wicked, self-satisfied smirk, "For supplies, when I'm too lazy."

Steve shakes his head, crossing his arms now to mirror her stance. "So what? My arms then?" his question makes her glance at his arms and she notices the involuntary flex of his biceps as he speaks, tongue swiftly licking over her bottom lip at the twitch of dark ink.

The fact he's wearing that amazingly soft, short-sleeved henley, with all three buttons undone, showing his chest, and the sleeves' white fabric in such contrast against his tattooed skin, does not help to focus.

"But I wouldn't be able to embrace you," Steve tilts his head to the side, corners of his mouth twitching as he punctuates his next words, eyes focused on Cath's lips, "Or... do other... t _hings_..."

"Nah, your arms are safe," her casual tone shifts his attention back to her eyes, golden-flecked irises sparkling mischievously.

Her next words have him opening his mouth, speechless for a few seconds, "I think we could survive a day or two, munching on your ears. You're not listening to anyone anyway."

Cath bursts out in laughter as the tips of Steve's ears turn bright red.

"Cute, Rollins," he huffs, but can't stop his own bright grin, which appears on his face whenever she is so happy and carefree. His heart skips a beat, synchronizing with the slightly faster rhythm of her giggles.

"And your arms can be useful," Cath waves her hand in his direction, lips quivering to restrain undoubtedly another grin, "To carry the bags."

She fails at keeping an innocent face and within seconds lightens up in a mirthful glow, head tilted to the side, smile full and bright.

"That's how it is, huh?" Steve clicks his tongue, taking a very slow step towards her, to which she doesn't even fidget in reaction. The vague movement misleading her, leaving unprepared for the sudden change as Steve lunges at her.

"I can carry one snarky bag right now!"

Catherine's shriek is loud, dispersing into bubbles of laughter as he easily lifts her up and throws over his shoulder.

Kicking her legs in the air, she clenches her fingers on the hem of his shirt, just above the waistband of his jeans. A playful pat on the butt makes her snort with laughter and reply with the same action - smacking Steve's ass.

They are both laughing hysterically as he carries her through the kitchen's open space to the living room, aiming for the beige soft couch. Their tangled bodies land on it with a thud, causing the red and green plaid cushions to fall to the floor. Though still grinning and chuckling, they wiggle their way around, getting more comfortable, Cath's legs spreading for Steve to crawl between them, his arm securing the side of the couch so neither of them will fall.

"Taste for ears, huh?" Steve rasps, warm breath puffing directly on Cath's lobe a second before he drawls it in his mouth and sucks.

Little bites along her ear's auricle evoke a splutter of tiny whimpers, Catherine's fingers digging harder into Steve's back, fisting on his cotton T-shirt. She tilts her head as he kisses down her neck, warm hand sneaking underneath the fabric of her blouse, the quiver of her belly muscles making Steve hum appreciatively into her skin.

Skilful fingers skim along the line of her bra, aiming to slip under the lace, when their gasps get muffled by the obnoxious sound of Steve's phone, which he deliberately ignores.

"Mhmm," Cath tugs on his hair, at the same time arching up to him as he bites on one her breast through the fabric, "You gonna answer it?"

"Nope," Steve mutters, barely pulling his mouth away, a wet spot darkening on the green shirt.

"We're snowed in," he moves up, lips capturing Catherine's in a rough kiss, pausing every few seconds to pant out, "No reception," drawing her bottom lip between his teeth and releasing with a soft  _pop_ , he adds, "You ate my ears, can't hear the phone."

"Goof," Cath snickers, shaking her head slightly as her fingers ruffle his hair. "Just answer it," she sighs, moving her hand to pat the back pocket of his jeans, where the phone keeps buzzing and ringing.

Steve hangs his head low, muttering about how the day is ruining all of his nice plans, but finally sits back and picks up.

"McGarrett," he growls, not caring if the person on the other side of the line will notice his displeased tone.

The frown creasing his forehead deepens, alerting Cath, who watches him intently. "Hello? Jo-Joan? Is that you?" the worried tone, his voice cracking as he says his niece's name, clenches Catherine's heart and in an instant she's sitting up, hand reaching to rest upon his.

She breathes a sigh of relief, when Steve slightly shakes his head and the gloom disperses into warm smile. His body visibly relaxes, sinking into the sofa as he listens to the happy, high pitched babble.

"Yes, mommy is right, we have snow here. Too much of it, actually..." he winks at Cath, turning his hand and entwining their fingers together.

It's not the first time three-and-a-half year old Joan is calling to talk to her Uncle and Auntie, the last time they were listening for over twenty minutes to her excitement over being a Snowflake in her kindergarten play, both of them listening to it attentively, smiles plastered on their faces.

Whenever he's talking to Joan, Steve always glows proudly, a twinkle in his eyes that never fails to make Cath's heart melt.

"Umm, I will try my best, but I'm not sure if it will be possible to send you some," he chuckles, glancing out the window and then to Cath, his eyes sparkling with a new shade of emotion as his next reply comes out in a soft, heartwarming tone, "I'm sure Auntie Cath would love to take you ice skating."

At the mention of her name, Catherine beams up. She was so happy when on Thanksgiving, the tiny girl swerved in a pink tulle skirt, pretending to be an ice skating ballerina and plying Cath with dozen of questions.

"Hey, you want to talk to... hello? Joan?" Steve is about to give the phone to Cath, but the girl's reply makes him frown in confusion, "What? Jo-"

He lowers his hand, gaping at the now blank phone in utter disbelief.

"She just hung up on me, because Peppa the Pig is on."

Catherine offers him an apologetic smile, trying to contain her giggle, when he turns his head and an almost sad pout is visible. "Aw, poor Uncle Steve, being rejected for a piggy," her warm hand cups his cheek, patting it indulgently, "Need some comforting there, Sailor?"

Steve chuckles, dropping the phone on the coffee table and then slowly sliding his hand up her leg, fingers pressing harder into her thigh. "Hell yes," with a mischievous grin he grips at her hips and pulls her swiftly onto his lap.

"I like the perks of being snowed in," his low purr tickles Cath's skin as he bites on her pulse point, dispersing her choked chuckle into a drawn out moan.


End file.
